Things you MIGHT hate about me

<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKTJpMyBefqpUxtZc6kAWccp-pLZC1j9iULGW6ym5kgZ56si8ukiXvlRT-5FWpMKIHC11E_jPjlAjXHSwzwWCC4-PfCv37BHEVCuwLbpUGB3qCgmew0NqmuTAnoFUA_3Z_2ZtL4grkFLzU/s1600/Special_K_Logo.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKTJpMyBefqpUxtZc6kAWccp-pLZC1j9iULGW6ym5kgZ56si8ukiXvlRT-5FWpMKIHC11E_jPjlAjXHSwzwWCC4-PfCv37BHEVCuwLbpUGB3qCgmew0NqmuTAnoFUA_3Z_2ZtL4grkFLzU/s320/Special_K_Logo.gif" width="261" /></a></div><b>The ‘K’ factor:</b><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">So yeah, I don’t really know how to reply to your ‘k’ text. We’re in a middle of a great conversation and when I get a freaking’ ‘K’ from you. DO NOT expect my text back. K?</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOIk4wlVe3HOB95A5KiGOyUdbaDw9AJArZQ1YCLnOgEUY5y-GCeMkR_RiBXtxVtGE_CsdSAOthjcjtiIGi1SlpUaW9MA5wcdVdyOVSHbNUgTX9JjPU1NUOzqo9O8_yzLzYZANmndodaCGy/s1600/emotions.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOIk4wlVe3HOB95A5KiGOyUdbaDw9AJArZQ1YCLnOgEUY5y-GCeMkR_RiBXtxVtGE_CsdSAOthjcjtiIGi1SlpUaW9MA5wcdVdyOVSHbNUgTX9JjPU1NUOzqo9O8_yzLzYZANmndodaCGy/s320/emotions.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><b>Importance of Emotions:</b><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Emoticons like ‘:)’ ‘:(‘ ‘:P’ ‘:D’ ‘<3’ ‘:S’ and ‘:/’ are very very and I say VERY important to me. You gotta talk to me? Tolerate me with MY emotions, emoticons, I mean.</div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnLb0UuXyKEu0Nab0bYABMWQkuBi1dy1EVkEil2AN-t3FSJfL0BAtP4QmFNY-IlDFoaHBm2mmq9t-5Yzl78oG3aEtuQjr11opFsymtMMG50vuqEoC_Aizv-YTNlqoaRW_ZE_hvjyoJT3cQ/s1600/mood.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnLb0UuXyKEu0Nab0bYABMWQkuBi1dy1EVkEil2AN-t3FSJfL0BAtP4QmFNY-IlDFoaHBm2mmq9t-5Yzl78oG3aEtuQjr11opFsymtMMG50vuqEoC_Aizv-YTNlqoaRW_ZE_hvjyoJT3cQ/s320/mood.png" width="213" /></a></div><b><br /></b><br /><b>Severe mood swings:</b><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">If one day I’m the nicest person to you on the face of this planet and shout the shit out of you the other day, you’re a victim of my dangerous mood disaster, deal with it. Will you? Please? Thank you.</div><b><br /></b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYsHjRpp5zsl_UnTuYf1JXQVqJ9ZU1NByGhGoxXaXg7NqfUHZI0EW5IuvzX7HXxRjVWV1880rWs3APiAtbmc-bKU_rKhk3_VgROTLmvQ9lucFRNECJcuPyxIlbZVMxYz23p4S-wOvbqB8W/s1600/Cute+Babies+Wallpapers-Baby+Pics-Photos-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYsHjRpp5zsl_UnTuYf1JXQVqJ9ZU1NByGhGoxXaXg7NqfUHZI0EW5IuvzX7HXxRjVWV1880rWs3APiAtbmc-bKU_rKhk3_VgROTLmvQ9lucFRNECJcuPyxIlbZVMxYz23p4S-wOvbqB8W/s320/Cute+Babies+Wallpapers-Baby+Pics-Photos-9.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><b><br /></b><br /><b>Kids/Babies/Children:</b><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">My obsession with kids might get you to hate me, yeah. I totally adore babies. I can’t just resist myself when I see a baby anywhere. I just HAVE to run up to them to pull those delicious cheeks. =D</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBT4A60vkMZirqYZ3Z4NhYyIYPeW1k-ap5mkDvXLTu2O3M91gLbR3dd4SbqjbKuOK6Vbfb7wHKxGtkGFTDoYW0oB0gRLYWZpRNEfQXFSMs0bDBKRFZafA3rInCGcX8yNKX2zAISfEVDmv/s1600/music.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBT4A60vkMZirqYZ3Z4NhYyIYPeW1k-ap5mkDvXLTu2O3M91gLbR3dd4SbqjbKuOK6Vbfb7wHKxGtkGFTDoYW0oB0gRLYWZpRNEfQXFSMs0bDBKRFZafA3rInCGcX8yNKX2zAISfEVDmv/s320/music.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><b>My ‘kinda’ music, oh yeah:</b><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Hate me for listening to ‘teenage dream’ on repeat for 3 days straight. Or singing ‘Sheila ki jawaani’ on top of my lungs at the most random times. My music changes with my mood, I dance to Enrique, sing along with Sonu nigam, cry to Rahat’s Teri yaad saath hai, scream my throat out to Noori, hum along with Shreya Goshal and so on. All I want in life is GOOD MUSIC, anything else can just go to hell.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmMUoTP6K2eUB3mGM3Leuymsv06PDr6LNUip-5xcLu4qsUIBZYnMKr9b2_ZjI1g2TeDBPE4AFhXXwzc2W73udPCatQeKU26UhnlyqPy2TfJERHt6zibXZ3akrJVY2vSkBJlkrGmXAG7pvi/s1600/camera.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmMUoTP6K2eUB3mGM3Leuymsv06PDr6LNUip-5xcLu4qsUIBZYnMKr9b2_ZjI1g2TeDBPE4AFhXXwzc2W73udPCatQeKU26UhnlyqPy2TfJERHt6zibXZ3akrJVY2vSkBJlkrGmXAG7pvi/s320/camera.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><b>Love for Camera:</b><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">The camera travels with me every single place I visit. There has to be a picture of every single thing, every single event, and every single occasion. Because it has been said, you can never have too many pictures. Oh, what’s that?! *must click one picture*, wow, that’s a treat to my eyes *click*.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTZNqJcadbU0KIEd0IqxO3ve3OwcLzoIAlaq2BXpO2aAMm54dlki-ULZid5P0UWTuUTEsnL-blyiY9V_4-NmZ8g6g-N1jWdW0XT27vVGLjszr8oYqffhD4sLTYY5khXagAR0bY0SlheAju/s1600/sense_of_humor-762713.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTZNqJcadbU0KIEd0IqxO3ve3OwcLzoIAlaq2BXpO2aAMm54dlki-ULZid5P0UWTuUTEsnL-blyiY9V_4-NmZ8g6g-N1jWdW0XT27vVGLjszr8oYqffhD4sLTYY5khXagAR0bY0SlheAju/s320/sense_of_humor-762713.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><b>Sense of humor:</b><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">I don’t blame you, I, sometimes, hate myself for my abrupt sense of humor. I make a joke like that and realize oh man, what the hell did I just say. I’m cool as long as people end up laughing at it and if not, then dayyummm, I can’t really do anything about it.</div>

Things you MIGHT hate about me

The ‘K’ factor: So yeah, I don’t really know how to reply to your ‘k’ text. We’re in a middle of a great conversation and when I get a freak...

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Fighting with your innerself..

<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvLq0Y3wAaTBRCqE3ZDB8r-ApOfP7gMr0y_aHYJsYuJMiy5DfHw30xjgFXyaQG6fPF66BeVEAGYDqzWQcQx8iv1Q9IV9B6rcibmdFnmQjH-qikdBZqvroujrwYtFuPbZDC-j81hT_DZCYE/s1600/phoneset01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvLq0Y3wAaTBRCqE3ZDB8r-ApOfP7gMr0y_aHYJsYuJMiy5DfHw30xjgFXyaQG6fPF66BeVEAGYDqzWQcQx8iv1Q9IV9B6rcibmdFnmQjH-qikdBZqvroujrwYtFuPbZDC-j81hT_DZCYE/s1600/phoneset01.jpg" /></a></div><br />Do you ever pick up the phone and realize you're not suppose to call them anymore? Because they're not expecting to see your name on their cell phones. It's like a battle you have to fight everyday with yourself. What do you do? Things like hiding your phone under your pillow so you won't text or all them? Or maybe replacing their name with some other friends name? Because let's be real, the one thing your cannot do is to delete their number from your contacts. I've tried. Didn't work.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqgO5cfdtZ1JhJ7lQXqwcuzMDJJYgcKheZ_YjRbZFzWaMj3uZfaODz2YfizPxg33AbydGKLmXiGP16LmxzZXqvgE5xhjgud6_fLhiM-Zof0_35v4015yaJKa-CeS8i8GPwW-0wbitbLv2I/s1600/love-hate-baby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqgO5cfdtZ1JhJ7lQXqwcuzMDJJYgcKheZ_YjRbZFzWaMj3uZfaODz2YfizPxg33AbydGKLmXiGP16LmxzZXqvgE5xhjgud6_fLhiM-Zof0_35v4015yaJKa-CeS8i8GPwW-0wbitbLv2I/s320/love-hate-baby.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />There comes a point when you start to hate them, hate them so much that your mind still thinks about them. I hate to break it to you, my dear, you're not hating them, you're falling for them even harder. Its very much like you want to just throw them out in traffic and then jump in front of some car and risk your own life just to save them. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaI39SPZ7s3Jnse9g-NZoPUHanbx28xNTGOTOhNci7pri6HI4VPDNVYaOC8bQAvFYL03x0s7ZE6du5k99eFuUfNnBeq88KDHuGFOj9wwvB-OCu19x-ckNM3l2f9ceOdhUYo6XodxlRf6QC/s1600/cinderella-movie-poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaI39SPZ7s3Jnse9g-NZoPUHanbx28xNTGOTOhNci7pri6HI4VPDNVYaOC8bQAvFYL03x0s7ZE6du5k99eFuUfNnBeq88KDHuGFOj9wwvB-OCu19x-ckNM3l2f9ceOdhUYo6XodxlRf6QC/s1600/cinderella-movie-poster.jpg" /></a></div><br />I'd like to put it in a fairytale story aswell. What do you do when he's your prince charming but you're not his Cinderella? And that freakin' glass slipper doesn't fit. Don't force the slipper to get in your feet, you might even break it. And that'd be the last thing you would want. So, you either decide to wait for the prince to come to you or you run to the castle and get him. Damn! How unrealistic. Only if life worked that way. But sadly, it does not and you're left with the reality which screws you over and over not caring how hurt you are. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4AetXFENDdsnxkGCvAvMjIXp3y4jlVhWXtt6VHfdrYWaWU1XzQ9vf-Z0H2oJx_LspF3nEXj2zc5Xgrfzwbiy4i6dFRUTzX8P2ROXttf1km_cASgMAl80keIw23iD6SHzThwLxNzxaKO4Q/s1600/hurt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4AetXFENDdsnxkGCvAvMjIXp3y4jlVhWXtt6VHfdrYWaWU1XzQ9vf-Z0H2oJx_LspF3nEXj2zc5Xgrfzwbiy4i6dFRUTzX8P2ROXttf1km_cASgMAl80keIw23iD6SHzThwLxNzxaKO4Q/s320/hurt.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The way I see it? Well. I don't know. It is a battle with yourself. And no matter whoever wins. You lose. And you get hurt. And you cry. But *tadaaaa* reality check. Nobody freakin' cares. That's how it is. They see you down, they pick you up, they built you up, take you up on cloud nine, and watch you fall. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxtjeol5p4gLYAw0OLpYtiYEWFI7pRchzD_4-Jp1RhXdQHRicmtqsdu-suBRMoOPvvOn_uARARRcjVHnTNgip0r18Me2Eq6jxrQsvjk-TSWj9KvNSPws0mUTjxiXFqgp6wQy4wEbc4QB0J/s1600/selfish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxtjeol5p4gLYAw0OLpYtiYEWFI7pRchzD_4-Jp1RhXdQHRicmtqsdu-suBRMoOPvvOn_uARARRcjVHnTNgip0r18Me2Eq6jxrQsvjk-TSWj9KvNSPws0mUTjxiXFqgp6wQy4wEbc4QB0J/s320/selfish.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The worst part. You're hurt. And they're gone. Now you either keep telling your heart how bad and selfish they were in the first place, which totally works, or you wait. Wait for them to realize. Wait for them to think. Wait for them to come back. I hate to say it, they won't return, they're choosing everyday not to be with you. The soon you accept it the better for you. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgltjGJ8Ue7KZbzcDXPtFodXT15yTjtjorOdlwB6dGsBpFsV6SlKMtzwhK4ev7NfKvfm9rK1QuA9uu-eK3aVd22ZOBYbJ9PHlbHHxWkiK55bWHcH_9bYCDZdcXa7t6uZvZsxFKo1qOnuAbF/s1600/prays.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgltjGJ8Ue7KZbzcDXPtFodXT15yTjtjorOdlwB6dGsBpFsV6SlKMtzwhK4ev7NfKvfm9rK1QuA9uu-eK3aVd22ZOBYbJ9PHlbHHxWkiK55bWHcH_9bYCDZdcXa7t6uZvZsxFKo1qOnuAbF/s320/prays.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />What you can do is pray. Prays ever go unheard. They may go unanswered sometimes, maybe because HE knows better than us. Pray that you win the battle. Pray that you start to hate them. Pray that you be happy. Pray for things to get better. Pray for the broken heart and shattered soul. Pray for peace. Pray for love. PRAY, because HE listens. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfYaBBKwcriBbnGz7ldB7QfPV12CqDMSQaFBzjP5bvpTOouIVfyFpr43S6XHEtOHHjM4T1wOjxvSZJk47c9x34YpKgoCbJAbrGLof91vgKrPk6icIj0j6LB_uPgpt5qpKRq1HfIrPoU68o/s1600/wake-up-happy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfYaBBKwcriBbnGz7ldB7QfPV12CqDMSQaFBzjP5bvpTOouIVfyFpr43S6XHEtOHHjM4T1wOjxvSZJk47c9x34YpKgoCbJAbrGLof91vgKrPk6icIj0j6LB_uPgpt5qpKRq1HfIrPoU68o/s320/wake-up-happy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />And then one day you wake up and not have them on your mind. Even if your hear the name or read it somewhere, it won't hit you the way it did. I'm sure you're going to turn the neck, but that's just normal, and you won't feel anything. Nothing at all. The day you feel nothing is the day you start living again. <br /><br />Sure, there's a gap. And it shall always be there. I suggest you don't try to fill it because the gap shall never be filled. So do yourself a favor. Try to move on.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUiyCdIGwVpwctrPb9dPCfZG92V-FokWhFgrGxyzt5MJu4CzqKJ142Kas_hE1Rl5Y6ISFUrqKZy2nuT_apIV0FHTovZbkwMdyEAvKe62LfJIrDLKyaKa16FZ8Dfmkoirc_69dfXrkiZG5j/s1600/z113568119.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUiyCdIGwVpwctrPb9dPCfZG92V-FokWhFgrGxyzt5MJu4CzqKJ142Kas_hE1Rl5Y6ISFUrqKZy2nuT_apIV0FHTovZbkwMdyEAvKe62LfJIrDLKyaKa16FZ8Dfmkoirc_69dfXrkiZG5j/s320/z113568119.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><b>"As corny and Hallmark-y as this is going to sound, I am just finally understanding that when you choose to let peple into your life, you accept the bad and the good. I guess you've just got to deal with it, because you can't spend the rest of your life being isolated. Just remember that everyone, no matter who they are, manages to leave a mark on your life. They make you who you are. Thank them."</b> -Christina Treco</div></div>

Fighting with your innerself..

Do you ever pick up the phone and realize you're not suppose to call them anymore? Because they're not expecting to see your name o...

Read more »